


get up, get out, relight that spark

by nicolewithasoul



Series: wake me up, i wanna feel the sun (or JATP character studies) [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, i think that this is a character study??, i wrote this because there isn't enough julie love and that isn't right, if it isn't then oh well, it's JULIE and the phantoms, not the phantoms and julie, she is the main character and she needs to be treated like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicolewithasoul/pseuds/nicolewithasoul
Summary: A look into the life of Julie Molina.*Written as part of the same series asthe pretty lies, the ugly truth, my Carrie Wilson character-study, but it is able to be read as a stand-alone.*Title is from Wake Up.
Relationships: Julie Molina & Julie Molina's Mother
Series: wake me up, i wanna feel the sun (or JATP character studies) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016515
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	get up, get out, relight that spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pearlselegancies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlselegancies/gifts).



> I wrote this because I noticed that there was a criminal lack of fics just about Julie. I hope that my mediocre writing is a good contribution.
> 
> I talk about fire and matches and things like that in this, just a warning!

She was bright. She was a candle, shining out into the darkness, music notes and laughter and happiness. 

But candles only burned if someone else lit them up. Someone else had to light a match, touch the spark to her wick to make her burn. Her mother did that for her, setting up a cycle of giving. She learned to give, to give until her own light burned out. 

She grew up in a home that was full of matches. She was constantly being encased in warm flames, never too hot, never too cold, and she let herself burn. 

Music lit her up. She loved the way that music brought people together, the way that it connected lights from all over the globe. The world was covered in the strands of connection, crisscrossing and interesting and bringing brightness. The music linked her to her mother, to Carrie, to Flynn. It brought her closer to them, pulling and pulling and pulling. 

Music poured out of her, on the smooth crescendo of her voice, onto the smooth cream paper, onto the black and white piano keys, and everything was good. Everything was so good and she felt like her light would never burn out. 

Her mom was there, lighting her up and making her taller, until one day she wasn’t. It was quick and painless, the doctors said, her light snuffed out in one single night.

And suddenly there was no one to light her candle again. She tried so hard, she tried for herself for her friends, for her family, but it was like her wick had been snapped. There was no way for her to mend it again, no way for her to relight the spark. 

She was extinguished, for a year. A year of no light, of no music. A year where she was given so many chances and she just couldn’t touch herself to the flame. 

And then three ghost boys poofed into her life. And she woke up. 

Some would say that she found someone new to light her fire, to light her wick. But no, that’s not true. She had had a cloud pulled over her head, a shroud pulled over her eyes. And she fought tooth-and-tail to push it away, to pull it off. She fought and she fought and she fought. She drowned and she drowned until she wanted to give up. But then she learned to swim, she learned to stand again. She stood tall against the wind beating her down.

She was no longer a candle, reliant on the light of others. Like a butterfly going through a metamorphosis, she turned into a sun. She had her own energy, combustion within her. She lit up others around her, she started her own fires. She blazed a trail through the sky, through the woods and the trees that tried to drown out her light.

Like it had once, music was the fiery tail behind her. It was bright and hot, blue flames that protected her heart from those that got too close. It floated in the air, surrounded her with warmth. 

She went to sleep each night in a cocoon of brightness, a clarity in her sight and a smile on her face. 

When things tried to drown her out, when life tried to snuff her light, she let herself shine. She stopped holding herself back, she stopped being the one on the back of the page, the one in the background. She was no longer the girl that people walked all over. 

She had been that girl once, she had loved that girl once, but she was no longer that version of herself. That girl wasn’t dead, no, it hadn’t been a funeral when she said goodbye. She had grown, she had changed, caterpillar to butterfly, candle to sun. 

Julie Molina was bright. She was a shining sun, a star in the sky. She was her own fire, the chemical combustion her power. She was her own match, her own alarm clock. She woke up, and she was brighter than she had ever been.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nicolewithasoul) or leave me a comment!


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